


The Shape of Your Hands

by elliebird



Series: Kinktober 2020 [13]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, No actual spanking, Spanking, boys being dumb, just a lot of talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliebird/pseuds/elliebird
Summary: Years ago I was going to write an epic early days fic in which Cashton discover they like being kinky together. I probably won't ever finish it, but here's 3k about Calum wanting to be spanked.The underage warning is because this takes place during 5SOS's first tour with 1D.
Relationships: Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin
Series: Kinktober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953913
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	The Shape of Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Day 13 of Kinktober. Written for the prompt "impact play" from [this list](https://lustyargonianmaid.tumblr.com/post/187565391163/october-is-approaching-which-means-it-is-almost).

There are many things Calum hates more than Twitcams, but at the moment, he can’t remember what they might be. They can be tedious and boring, embarrassing as fuck with some of the things their fans say to them, but they aren’t as terrible as workouts with Jarvis, having a tooth pulled, or answering the same “celebrity crush” question at every interview. 

Ashton thinks they help build their rapport with their fans. Calum personally doesn’t understand why so many people enjoy watching them make absolute idiots out of themselves, but they do so Ashton insists they do them weekly. 

Calum has no idea where they are today. Somewhere in the midwestern part of the States, a place that ends in ass, he remembers Michael saying quite loudly as they stepped off the bus. 

A lot of touring, as they’re quickly discovering, is hanging around, killing time. 

Luke found an innertube from somewhere at the venue, a neon green donut big enough for both of them and Calum is currently stuffing himself into it while Ashton tries to get them to focus. 

Luke is all skin and bones. “You need to eat more, bro,” Calum tells him, wincing as Luke pokes him in the belly with his hip. The problem is, Luke eats thousands of calories daily and can’t seem to gain any weight. Calum thinks Ashton, who voluntarily eats kale and spinach and puts chia seeds in his smoothies and then works out for hours at a time, is secretly jealous. 

Ashton and Michael are saying something into the camera, filling their audience in on where they are. Calum hasn’t a clue. They could be in Oz for all he knows. Everywhere they go looks the same, all the stops in America beginning to blur together. 

Calum’s restless and bored. He tries to climb up Luke’s string bean body, kicking Ashton in the thigh, trying to make himself more comfortable as Luke tips over sideways like an inflatable bowling pin. 

It’s kind of funny when Ashton gets angry. Calum wouldn’t be a good friend if he admitted that he likes trying to rile him up but he takes a perverse kind of pleasure in watching Ashton try to keep his cool wrangling his band mates like a mother hen herding kittens. 

Ashton has always been singularly focused on seeing them succeed and occasionally his drive clashes wildly with Calum’s desire to have a good time. 

Calum’s laughing into Luke’s shoulder, clutching the tube around them when Ashton shouts at them, clearly reaching peak levels of irritation. 

“Quit being a dick,” he says sharply and then like some twisted version of a wet dream, slaps Calum hard three times in quick succession right on the curve of his ass in front of thirty-five thousand fans. Calum goes completely still for a beat as heat courses through him. His ass fucking stings and he’s surprised by the force of Ashton’s palm on him. He stumbles over his feet, hissing in surprise, and jerks out of reach and a fear that he’ll arch into it and give himself away. 

Calum twists around, painfully aware that they’re still filming, his cock filling up so fast it makes him breathless. The twinge of pain with the fullness and rush of blood to his cock is dizzying. 

“Did you just spank me?” he breathes, trying to keep it light, play it off. He grins at Ashton, his heart hammering.“Spank me again.” 

His ass stings with the force of Ashton’s hand on him and he’s only half joking. If Ashton offered, Calum would let him spank him, choke him, pull on his hair, any number of things he knows he shouldn’t want but spends a lot of time thinking about hidden away in his bunk. 

Calum gets hard a lot around Ashton. It’s just how it is, he’s used to it and he’s stopped blaming it on his fucking traitorous body and on the fact that Ashton looks like a walking wet dream with tanned skin and fucking muscles Calum thinks about when he’s having a wank. 

Getting hard is a side-effect of being a teenager and Calum doesn’t get embarrassed by it anymore. He wriggles around in the tube so his back is to Luke and tugs his vest down over his dick, hoping for the best. 

Eventually his dick softens but he can still feel the phantom shape of Ashton’s palm on his ass, remembering the sting of it and the thrill of the pain as it shot through him straight to his cock and the pit of his belly, heat blooming outwards. 

Calum doesn’t stop thinking about it. He’s a bit of a freak. It’s cool, he owns it. His bandmates love and accept him for who he is and have said so repeatedly, on multiple occasions, and not always while drunk. He wants things that good Christian boys are not supposed to want, things good straight boys shouldn’t think about when they have a hand on their cock. 

Ashton, for how quickly he grew up raising his siblings, is a prude when it comes to sex. The thing is, Ashton worries so much about the three of them, keeping them together as a band but also as best friends. Calum knows as sure as he knows anything in his life that if he asked, Ashton would give him just about anything if it meant taking care of him. It’s one of the fiercest things about him. 

Of course Calum doesn’t let it go. He never lets anything go. 

He jerks off in the shower after the show, thankful for nights when they play places with locker rooms and actual showers. He leans his head back into the hot spray, biting back a groan at the delicious pressure of a real shower as hot water rushes over him and thinks about what it would be like if he somehow convinced Ashton to spank him for real. 

Calum likes fucking girls. He likes how wet they get, soaked for him after a little foreplay and always eager. He likes the first fuck of his cock into a slick, welcoming pussy, likes the softness of a girl’s body beneath his and the sounds they make when they’re close to coming. He gets a lot more sex these days and he’s aware it’s because he’s Calum of 5 Seconds of Summer. He’s also aware that a lot of what he wants isn’t something he’s likely to get from the girls who want to sleep with him. 

* * * 

Ashton’s wide awake. 

He’s reached the point in the night when he’s started counting how many hours of sleep he’ll get if he could just fall asleep now. His body aches with exhaustion but his head won’t settle down and let him sleep. 

He might turn the lights on, get up and try to work off some of his restless energy with some sit ups, jumping jacks, burn off a little of the adrenaline still simmering in his veins from playing to fifteen thousand people. And this is just the beginning. 

The other bed is empty. He hasn’t seen Calum since the bus let them off at the hotel. The first trip from home and somehow, in the years since then, it’s made sense for them to keep sharing. It doesn’t always work - Calum likes to leave his clothes on the floor and his toothpaste in the sink. But he listens, when it’s two in the morning and Ashton can’t sleep because his head is full of all the things they still haven’t accomplished and Calum lets him talk for as long as it takes for him to finally settle and drift off. 

The door opens suddenly, loud and jarring, letting in a flood of light from the hallway. 

Ashton can tell immediately that Calum’s been drinking from the racket he makes as he comes into the room. He trips over his own feet with a muttered fuck, bumps into the wall and drops his rucksack on the floor with a thud and a tell-tale clank of glass bottles. 

His irritation at being unable to sleep fizzles a little. He’s just really fond of Calum. 

“You want to be a little louder over there?” Ashton says. The room is warm despite the loud whir of an air conditioning unit working over time. Ashton has a sheet draped over his hips, the rest of the blankets tangled at the foot of the bed. 

Calum ignores him. He kicks out of his shoes, whips his t-shirt over his head, and despite having a very nice bed of his own two feet away, clambors up into Ashton’s, sprawling over him like a starfish with his face in Ashton’s shoulder. 

“What’s wrong with your bed?” Ashton huffs out, all the air pulled from him with the force Calum’s dead weight on him. Ashton hadn’t realized he’d be giving up his claim to personal space when he joined the band. A year and a half later and he’s still alarmed by the general ease with which the others drape themselves all over one another. 

Calum especially doesn’t care about Ashton’s boundaries. 

“You’re not in it.” The words are muffled in the skin of Ashton’s throat, a vibration of sound that makes him shift beneath Calum’s weight. 

Ashton could very easily tell Calum to go away but it wouldn’t work. There’s no point and he likes the way Calum clings to him when he finally settles down. 

Calum is a lot, and has been since the day he took one look at Ashton, told him his shirt was stupid, and decided he was the fourth they’d been waiting for. 

“You smell like cherry syrup,” Ashton whispers, turning his face from Calum’s warm breath on his skin, the way it travels down his spine and settles uncomfortably in his belly. 

“Ash,” Calum suddenly, lifting his head and going cross-eyed as he touches his nose to Ashton’s, peering quite seriously at him. It’s kind of alarming. “Spank me again.” It’s so quiet Ashton almost misses it. 

Ashton laughs. He doesn’t mean to, the sound bubbles out of him helplessly. 

Calum makes a face and bumps his nose against Ashton’s. The space between his brows his furrowed, his nose scrunched up like an angry, fluffy bunny. “I’m serious.” He sounds hurt. 

“Calum,” Ashton says, wriggling a little under his weight. “I’m not going to spank you.” 

“Why not? You did it earlier.”

Ashton huffs. “That’s cause you were acting like a dick.”

Calum lifts his head, an eyebrow raised and a gleam in his eyes. “So if I act like a dick again, you’ll spank me?”

Ashton walked right into that and he knows it. “No, fuck, you’re such a pest.” 

Calum’s peering down at him quite focused and serious. 

Ashton sighs. “Why?” 

Calum’s weight on him shifts as he rests his cheek on Ashton’s shoulder. “I want you to do it for real,” he says, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to say to your best friend. Ashton kind of gets it, in a way. Their lives couldn’t be further from normal. Why not throw a little spanking into the mix. 

Calum’s breath is sweet and vodka scented. Ashton believes this is something Calum wants, but he takes the out he’s just been offered. “Cal,” he says, pushing Calum’s hair off his forehead. “You’re drunk.”

Calum lifts his head. “Only a little,” he admits. 

Ashton touches Calum at the small of his back where his skin is warm and damp and slides his pam up the length of his spine. Calum sighs and snuggles in closer. “Please,” he breathes against Ashton’s cheek. “I can’t ask anyone else.” 

Fuck. 

“It won’t be weird,” Calum wheedles, making his voices small and nuzzling his nose against Ashton’s cheek. 

Ashton lets out laugh. “Are you kidding? Of course it’ll be weird.” He wriggles out of Calum’s reach. “Stop that.”

Calum pouts but rolls to his side, throwing his arm around Ashton’s belly. He’s quiet for a bit. “I can’t ask anyone else,” he says again, quiet and serious.

Ashton doesn’t understand what Calum needs but he hates the thought of Calum looking for it outside the band, finding someone who might not care about Calum. Ashton understands needing something you can’t articulate. He knows the feeling of not knowing how or where to get it or who to ask. 

“If you still want this tomorrow,” Ashton says, “ask me when you’re sober.” All Ashton can do is hope Calum doesn’t remember this conversation in the morning. He doesn’t think he’s likely to forget it. 

Calum makes a disgruntled sound. “You’re no fun,” he sighs. He burrows in closer and Ashton resigns himself to sharing his bed with Calum for the night. 

* * * 

In the morning, Calum has a low-level headache at the base of his skull and a memory of asking Ashton to spank him. 

To keep shit from getting awkward, Calum leans into it. Beside him, Asthon’s stirring. Calum scrambles over Ashton, straddling his hips and biting back a groan as he settles his weight. Ashton’s morning wood is hot and pressing beneath the layer of sheets and cotton and Calum _really _wants to make them both come.__

__Ashton could be persuaded, maybe. But Calum wants something else a little more urgently and Ashton’s still a skittish colt about all things sex._ _

__“Ashtonnn,” he sing-songs quietly, getting right down into Ashton’s face. “Do you want to spank me now?”_ _

__Ashton responds by squeezing his closed eyes tighter, like a child pretending to sleep. It’s stupid and endearing and Calum hates himself a little for how into Ashton he is._ _

__Calum straightens up, settling his weight on Ashton’s dick. He pokes his cheek. “I know you’re awake.”_ _

__After a beat, Ashton sighs and opens his eyes. His cheeks are pink from sleep and he looks a little crazed, wild-eyed. Probably, when he said “ask me when you’re sober” he hadn’t pictured this. “I’m not going to spank you now, Calum.”_ _

__Calum woke up thinking about it. He fell asleep wishing he’d had the guts to ask Ashton without drinking three mini bottles of vodka out of the fridge in Michael and Luke’s hotel room, wondering if he’d lose all nerve once the alcohol was gone and the morning light knocked some sense into him._ _

__Instead, he woke up with his cock hard against Ashton’s thigh, having dreamt very sexy, very abstract dreams about hands pinning him down and touching him from the arches of his feet to the insides of his elbows. Very strange, very erotic dreams._ _

__It’s easier to ask for it if he pretends like it’s no big deal. He could take it or leave it, the thought of Ashton’s hand on his ass, spanking him hard enough to hurt, doesn’t make him chub up in his pants, doesn’t make him come so hard it’s minutes before he’s caught his breath._ _

__Ashton doesn’t have the same level of patience for Luke and Michael that he does for Calum. Calum likes that Ashton hasn’t moved to push him off the bed. He seems content for now, to let Calum sit on him._ _

__“Okay,” Calum agrees. “Not now.” He looks at Ashton’s face despite the desire to look anywhere else, at the ceiling, at the pillow, at Ashton’s pink nipples. He’s not a shy person. Asking for things, especially from his band, isn’t something he wastes energy worrying about. But he’s never asked for something he wants so desperately. Ashton’s watching him with sleepy eyes, his fringe falling across his forehead and somehow Calum manages to say “Will you spank me later?”_ _

__Ashton closes his eyes. He’s soft and warm from sleep, cuddly looking, though Ashton’s always been more like a hedgehog than a bunny or kitten. Adorable and sweet looking until you get too close. Calum has figured out a way to get close._ _

__Calum keeps still. He forces himself to give Ashton time, to let him decide if this is something he can give. Calum wants it so badly it makes him sick to think about not getting it._ _

__Ashton opens his eyes and looks at Calum. “Yeah, fuck, I’ll spank you later.”_ _

__Relief hits Calum so hard he feels off-balance. He flops forward, face in Ashton’s bare shoulder for a beat and then goes cross-eyed to kiss the tip of Ashton’s nose._ _

__Ashton laughs and pushes at Calum’s shoulder. “Get off weirdo.”_ _

__“I’m going,” Calum huffs, “but not because you told me to.” He bounces a little on Ashton’s stomach. “I have to pee.”_ _

__Calum doesn’t have to pee. He’s hard in his underwear and he needs to put some space between himself and Ashton’s sleepy, warm body, his heavy lidded eyes and soft mouth or he’ll end up giving up and begging Ashton to spank him now instead of playing it cool like it’s no big deal. It’s a big deal._ _

__He shoves his underwear down his thighs the second the door closes behind him. He bites a lip at the wave of pleasure and relief that hits him as soon as he wraps a hand around his cock. He climbs in the shower, bows his head with his eyes shut and pictures Ashton in bed. It won’t take long. He’s worked up from his dreams, from waking up against Ashton, from the vague promise of a spanking later._ _

__The water feels good against muscles that are sore from workouts with Jarvis and throwing himself around on stage every night. He leans back against the tile and thinks about getting Ashton’s big hand on him for the first time._ _

__He wants palm prints on his skin. He wants Ashton to hit him hard enough he feels it for days. He wants to jerk off afterwards, with his ass stinging, his cock so hard it won’t take more than a couple of strokes for him to come all over himself._ _

__He bites his lip to keep from being too loud, not that it matters. Ashton probably knows he’s in here jerking off._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm on [Tumblr](https://elliebirdthings.tumblr.com/)


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